


Theophylline

by bell (bellaboo), bellaboo, usomitai (bellaboo)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Cats, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-27
Updated: 2008-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/bell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/bellaboo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaboo/pseuds/usomitai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House gets Wilson a cat, to his later regret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theophylline

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the perceptive ; any remaining badness is my own fault.

Once Wilson finally admitted to himself that, yes, he was a three-time divorcé, and that, yes, he was more or less permanently single, he left the hotel and got himself a small flat. It was a nice flat, as far as flats go, with all the typical features one might expect from such a place, but it was small since he did not expect to share it.

House changed that.

“I don’t even know if pets are _allowed_ here,” Wilson said, having tried to stare down the bright-white Persian and failed miserably. “And, more to the point, I don’t _want_ a cat.”

“Doesn’t matter,” House said cheerfully, petting the cat’s head. He stopped when she tried to bite off at least two of his fingers. “Now that you’re going to be a miserable old spinster, you’re obligated by law to have cats; this is just the beginning.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, yes. We’ll start you off with one, to get you used to your new lifestyle, and then… well, maybe this one will have a litter, and if it doesn’t, I’ll rescue a batch of drowning kittens and give them to you. Within a few years you won’t have enough space to walk in!” House nodded with great satisfaction, looking about the apartment as if he were imagining every square inch of it covered in mewling fur balls.

“I don’t qualify as a spinster,” was all that Wilson said, knowing that stopping House’s plans while he was still creating them was futile. He could put an end to this madness later.

But life takes unexpected turns and within a few months House’s view of Wilson as a sad, feline-ridden bachelor was invalidated when they accidentally slept together, making them realize that they’d been in love with each other for almost a decade now. It wasn’t an unpleasant surprise, but it did require readjustments.

Wilson moved in with House shortly afterwards, and the worst part wasn’t finding the space for the repeat of entire twenty-volume medical encyclopedias, nor was it trying to find a way to fit two computer systems in the living room and still have enough walking space to reach the piano.

No, the worst was their pets.

Wilson had promised that Theophylline would behave, but, unfortunately, no human can control their cat’s actions and within her first hour in House’s apartment she had already tried to eat Steve McQueen twice, behead him five times, and given him the work-out of his life by chasing around the apartment.

“She. Has. To. Go,” House explained almost calmly, holding poor, frightened Steve to his chest, occasionally murmuring to him that he wasn’t going to let him be that awful cat’s dinner, oh no he wasn’t.

“_You’re_ the one who gave her to me,” Wilson argued, “and she’s staying.” He scratched Theophylline under her chin. She purred her approval.

“What kind of a name is Theophylline, anyway?” House accused. “And for a murderer!”

“Don’t worry,” Wilson told Theophylline, “He’s just upset because you tried to eat his rat!”

They glared at each other before feeling absolutely stupid. “I can’t believe we’re pet-incompatible,” Wilson complained. He’d been forced to break up with people for the dumbest reasons, like how much garlic should go into a given meal, but this one won the gold medal at the Stupid Break-Ups Olympics.

“No wonder all your marriages crashed and burned,” House snorted, “if you give up this easily. But I’ve got an idea.”

A day later, Wilson watched as Theophylline rolled back and forth on her back, yowling between bites of a handful catnip leaves. He sighed. “Only _you_ would think that drugging my cat is a solution.”

“It’s working, isn’t it?” Steve, in his House’s lap, wouldn’t look away from Theophylline, but he wasn’t running in a mad rodent panic anymore. “Steve gets to stretch his legs out of the cage for a few minutes, your demon-cat gets a buzz, and you have one less idiot reason to break up with me. It’s win-win-- unless you have some other crazy scoring standard.”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “As long as you don’t get high off the catnip yourself.”

“Too late.” House closed one side of his nose and mimed snorting. Despite himself, Wilson laughed, and had to kiss him, and thus poor Steve’s time out of the cage was cut short in sacrifice of a thorough making-out session. Theophylline, though, got to enjoy her catnip down to very last of it.


End file.
